


Fenor

by Doctor_Lavellan



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Age Play, F/M, FenHarel kink, Fluff, Gen, Iron Bull POV, Oneshot, Stuffies, daddy dom, dd/lg, kinky!Solas, that's a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8896570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Lavellan/pseuds/Doctor_Lavellan
Summary: "Little wolf"The gang returns from the wilds and hit the tavern, where Sera reveals something potentially kinky about their Inquisitor. Iron Bull POV, but everyone chimes in with their theories...all with enthusiasm, save for a certain bald elf with a very dirty mind. Cole might just ruin Ellana's secret.





	

(”Little Wolf”)

After a long and miserably cold return trip back to Skyhold from Crestwood, The Iron Bull wants only three things in his plans for the next fortnight if he can manage it: hot showers, hot bar maids, and strong drinks. If he can manage to claim his regular chair along the far wall of the Herald's Rest, all the better. 

He's feeling so refreshed after his shower, that he decides to join the group of Inquisitor Lavellan's inner circle who have gathered at a long table near his spot in the tavern. He admits he's begun to enjoy the banter and camaraderie of this bunch nearly as much as he does his Chargers. Krem was due back with his guys in the next couple days, having scouted the remains of Haven for survivors or valuables. He didn't expect much would come of it, but Lavellan had come to him with tears glistening in those big elf eyes and he found himself unable to resist her pleading him. Made him want her pleas in a different context.

He notices Ellana hasn't joined the group yet, and hides his surprise at seeing the apostate, Solas, with a mug in his hand and smile upon his handsome face as he speaks with the Seeker. Iron Bull takes his seat and his ale just as Sera raises her voice insistently to Varric. Bull chuckles a bit, none too shocked the loud-mouthed rogue has gotten pissed already. Feeling charitable, he interrupts her as she takes a deep swig from and gestures with her pint of ale.

"Alright, Sera, what are you on about now?" He grins at Dorian across the table and the 'Vint actually has the balls to wink back him! What an interesting development, he muses before turning his attention to the tipsy elf girl in front of him. 

"Shorty don't believe me," she loudly declares, eyeing Varric with unrestrained hauteur and slamming her open palm down on the oak table. Cassandra and Solas look over their way as the Warden takes a chair next to the dwarf, all burly concern. Bull conceals a grin behind his mug.

"It's not that I don't believe you, Buttercup," Varric says in his best soothing voice, "I'm just not convinced it means much." Sera huffs and rolls her eyes.

"Alright, I'll bite," Blackwall says, eyeing the two of them, "What's this thing that might or might not have meaning?" The table has all turned toward them, echoing the Warden to reveal the source of the two rogues' difference of opinion.

"Day before last, see, when me and Quizzy are packing up our tent, something falls out of her bedroll, right?” Sera takes another swig, making them all wait.

"Sera, presumably the Inquisitor would appreciate you not discussing such private matters so openly," Solas says before she can continue, just loud enough for only their table to hear. If he's embarrassed to suggest such a delicate issue, Iron Bull cannot particularly tell. He figured the apostate more of a prude. Huh.

"Wha--? Oh, ewww!" Sera flicks a bit of ale across the table at the older elf. "Wasn't nothin' like that, pervy!" Iron Bull is amused to see the man's pointed ears go a bit pink as he sputters a half hearted protest that Sera gleefully interrupts.

"It was a toy, just not some elfy fuck toy like pervy's thinking up over there," she continues despite the apostate's choked cough. Dorian laughs and slaps the elf on the back, chuckling. Meets Bull's gaze again, grinning. Bull grins, despite himself. 

"Tell 'em what it was, Buttercup," Varric says with a sigh. Bull can tell he would rather be playing a clever word game or Wicked Grace.

"I'm getting' to it, shorty, watch yer breeches," Sera pats the dwarf on the head and gestures with her mug, sloshing ale onto the already filthy table.

"So she shakes her bedroll thing and a small stuffed animal lands at my feet. I reach down to pick it up, right? Ask her 'bout it 'cos I'm thinking it's cute, innit? She's got this little stuffie fighting demons and such and--"

"What animal was it?" Cassandra asks.

"--oh, um, a black wolf I think," Sera frowns, remembering. "Or a bear? Dunno, right? She swipes the thing right up and turns bright red to the tips of her little elfy ears and can't lit outta there faster'n if Coryphytits was crashin' the party! S'weird, innit?" She finishes with a flourish, sending flecks of ale froth at her audience. 

"And I maintain, Buttercup, that the stuffed wolf or bear or whatever is most likely a simple memento of home for our Inquisitor, a keepsake from her childhood." Varric shrugs. "It's not really that unusual at all, but I can see why she might be embarrassed about it I suppose."

"I'm not so sure, Varric." This from Cassandra, looking thoughtful. Sera nods vigorously, pointing towards the Seeker and looking to the dwarf with a smug declaration of "SEE?"

"What do you mean, Seeker?" Varric asks as if he'll regret the answer. Iron Bull is also quite curious about the others' interpretations of the Inquisitor's seemingly innocuous toy. He had not been all that sold on Sera's story at first, but the way she described Lavellan's reaction was not as innocent as Varric assumed.

In his experience, small tokens of ones past tend to not elicit such a mortified reaction when found; as one who considered the Inquisitor a friend, Iron Bull has been lucky enough to be introduced to several such tokens from Ellana's past life and the Dalish elf has always been nothing but proud to share with him and several others, including Sera. Of course, the cityborn elf could be exaggerating the level of embarrassment Ellana displayed over the toy's discovery, but he can't think of any particular reason she would do so. His training as a Ben-Hassrath agent has granted him a certain intuition about situations, and although he isn't sure exactly why, this stuffed animal of Inquisitor Lavellan most certainly has a more interesting history than a mere memento from childhood. 

"I only mention it because the Herald was kind enough to share a childhood keepsake with me back in Haven," Cassandra continues. "Without betraying her trust, I will say that the object was also a child's toy, although not the same one Sera described. She wasn't embarrassed at all when I asked her about it; she actually told me a very nice story about it." The Seeker looks around at the group, a questioning shrug in her shoulders. 

"Hmm, yes, you know, I believe you are quite right," Dorian chimes in. "Ellana was kind enough to recount to me a tale of how she came to own a human doll that she still keeps in her quarters here at Skyhold. She made no secrets about it. I doubt something so similar would have her blushing like a schoolgirl if discovered by our Sera here."

"Exactly!" Cassandra and Sera both exclaim in unison. Everyone at the table has a good laugh at that and drinks are heartily refilled. 

"So, what is your theory then, Seeker?" Varric asks once the group has settled back in. Tilting back in his chair, he crosses his arms in open challenge.

"Ah, well, I can't possibly have any --"

"Surely you are familiar with a certain style of romantic storytelling…" Varric grins at Cassandra's blush. "Indulge me."

Cassandra seems to bristle at his challenge and takes an impressive gulp of her ale, grinning at the whoops and applause the table offers her. With a laugh and a shrug she leans in conspiratorially to the group as her voice softens slightly, a note of wistfulness in her tone that Bull finds strangely adorable. He doesn't miss Varric's look of surprise as the Seeker slips into her tale either.

"Perhaps, many years ago, when she was a very young woman, our Inquisitor, merely Ellana then, was passionately in love with a forbidden lover. Star crossed as they were, their love was a tumultuous affair but eventually was consummated with utter joy and she was blessed to carry his child in her womb. Despite the disapproval of both of their families, Ellana and her lover were overwhelmed with happiness and vowed to start their own lives on their own terms. The small stuffed wolf toy was a gift to their unborn child from its proud father and Ellana cherished the toy as it represented all they hoped to gain as they set out on their own. But in a cruel twist of fate, the two lovers were set upon by bandits and both were gravely injured and left for dead in the wilderness, their meager belongings stolen and naught but their tattered robes to shield them from the harsh Ferelden winter winds. It was then, our dear Ellana felt the warmth of blood beneath her and knew the truth of what had happened: their baby had been lost. Despondent, she tried to nurse her battered lover back to health, but when he learned of his child's fate, his will to live faded from his once strong shoulders. Before he passed on to the Beyond, he reached into his pocket to give his beautiful woman the only thing he had managed to retain from the ruthless bandits. As the light faded from his eyes, he told Ellana to never stop seeking happiness, that he loved her, and would always be with her as long as she kept what he held in his hand close to her heart. When Ellana finally slowed her sobs of despair, she pulled open his fingers and found, resting on his lifeless palm that had once made her feel so alive, the small black stuffed wolf that she would forever carry with her as she would carry the memories of her precious family that would never be but a memory."

The entire table is silent as each of them stare wide eyed at their stoic Seeker. Bull sees Dorian wipe a small tear from his eyes and Sera is unusually speechless, her mouth agape. Varric, too, is apparently too stunned to speak. Solas has a small smile on his full lips as he meets the eyes of the Iron Bull. 

Blackwall breaks the silence first with a loud guffaw.

"Another ale for the Seeker!" He declares and pours her a full mug.

"Wow, Cassie, I didn't know ya had it in ya!" Sera cheers. "You play like yer all buttoned up right, but now we all know yer just as hopeless as the rest of us tits!"

Varric stands and leans over the table so that he and the Seeker are nearly nose to nose. With a shit eating grin that makes Cassandra blush to the roots of her brown hair, he places the softest of chaste kisses upon her slightly parted lips and then retreats back into his seat, still grinning madly.

"If I didn't know better, I might suggest you were very familiar with the style of a certain unwelcome tag along, Seeker." Varric winks at the suddenly shy warrior and turns to the rest of the group mercifully. "Any other takers? Not that many could adequately follow that tragic yet beautiful story." Cassandra chokes a bit on her ale and makes a disgusted noise which makes everyone at the table burst into easy laughter. Bull, however, notices that Solas at least still has an odd look of curiosity in his eyes. Perhaps the Iron Bull isn't the only one with less innocent suspicions about the mysterious toy of their intrepid leader.

"Unlike, apparently, our dear Seeker here, I don't quite fancy the Inquisitor as much of a romantic," Dorian drawls then.

Blackwall agrees. "I have a theory, if you'd be inclined to indulge me too, storyteller?" The Warden offers toward Varric who nods enthusiastically.

"I'm not much a wordsmith myself, Lady Cassandra, so I'll keep this idea short and simple."

"We're all ears, Beardy," Sera says, jabbing him playfully in the ribs.

"Perhaps the toy isn't a reminder of good times, but of a darker time, when the Lady Inquisitor was a much different person. Imagine that the toy belonged not to herself or to her own children, but to someone that she wronged in this other life."

"Ooh, dark, I like it, Beardy," Sera says.

Blackwall ignores her. "She is a fierce mage, is she not? One so powerful likely likely came into her skills when she was very young, perhaps too young to know anything at all about how to wield such talent. I have heard tales of Dalish babes setting entire clans ablaze as their hunger cries brought their elemental fire abilities to birth. Imagine our Lady Inquisitor as a child, playing innocently with a fellow Dalish elf child out in the Free Marches forests, innocent and free. Harmless. Her friend--for what could he be but her friend?--tries to take a small plaything from her as children do. But instead of tears or crying back to her mamae, the young Lady Inquisitor becomes enraged and sets the very lifeblood of her friend alight with excruciating flames, turning him to molten ash from the inside as she watches, horrified and helpless to control the power she now holds deep within her very core. Heartbroken and terrified, she brushes his ashes into the river and pockets his small stuffed wolf determined to remember even as she confesses nothing in her shame. As the clans families search hopelessly for the young lad, she clutches the toy close to her, vowing to learn so that she never again passes such evil along in the world. The boy's disappearance is attributed to roving humans, but she alone knows the truth and will never part with the soft yet stark reminder of who she once was and who she truly is in her heart--a murderer and liar."

Again, the table is still. "Well, shit." Varric breathes after a few moments. Sera bursts into maniacal laughter at that and the rest of the group follows suit, clapping Blackwall on the back and refilling his drink.

"That's pretty twisted, man," Bull says respectfully.

"Anyone else?" Varric asks with a laugh. "I don't think we're going to top those two theories."

"I rather think the toy is likely filled with Ellana's stash of Royal elfroot she's been holding out on us," Dorian says then, curling the edge of his mustache, quite attractively, Bull thinks.

"Yeah, or it’s full of pearls or a key to an ancient elfy treasure or something," Sera adds, gleefully.

"Perhaps she stores a very small diary inside the cotton filling, eh?" Bull says, not necessarily believing it, but wanting to add something so as to not attract attention for having held back. Like Solas has, a fact which everyone is quite aware of as slowly they all end up trying to catch his eye. Iron Bull is very curious as to what the mysterious elf will offer up as a possible explanation.

"Psssh--already know what you think, right, elfy?" Sera declares once it becomes clear that Solas has no intention of just offering up an idea on his own.

"And what, Sera, could that possibly be?" He asks, resigned it seems, to his torment.

"Well, you said it was private in that elven glory kind of way, innit?"

Solas narrowed his eyes but did not, this time, become flustered. "You can hardly expect us to rationally think that my theory is one that believes the the toy to have some sort of…sexual…function."

"Dunno, you’re the weird one, probably see all sorts of kinky shite in the Fade, yeah?"

The Iron Bull thinks he sees a bit more pink in the tips of the older elf's ears, but can't be sure it's not just due to frustration at Sera's tactics. The girl is damned annoying, he thinks with a grin.

Strangely enough, however, Iron Bull thinks Sera might actually be right. Not her theory of the toy, that is, but right about Solas believing the nature of the toy to be somehow tied to something sexual. He knows that's what the mage thinks because he has come to that conclusion as well. All other rational alternatives discussed, it remains the most logical explanation. And as one intimately familiar with certain kinky shite, Iron Bull is suddenly quite intrigued with the Inquisitor's stuffed animal. As he thoroughly believes the sly old elf just might be. The dog.

"The most rational theory, as I'm sure you all are aware, is of course, Varric's."

"Thank you, Chuckles."

"The question as to the nature of the Inquisitor's personal items are truly of no consequence and are likely quite innoc—"

"She loves the little wolf." The spirit boy, Cole, is suddenly standing next to Solas, speaking in that way he does. The Iron Bull shivers, but watches Solas as his grey eyes go very wide as he takes in Cole's words.

"The toy makes her feel little, too. She likes to feel little. She never did when she was young. Now it makes her want--wrapped up and warm, wet and wanton, waiting for his permission…Ar'gira mar'asreun, ma da'len…Dirth'ma 'sathan, ela'gara?' I ar'ea silras sul'nar'athimathe, ma'haurasha…Sahl'in, gara sul'em, nar Fen'Harel…and she does."

Solas has gone white as a sheet and Bull is certain he would give his left testicle to know what Cole had picked out of the Inquisitor's mind. Even without the Elvhen, Bull is pretty sure he had been right to suspect some sort of kink. Oh Inquisitor. Too big for her tight little breeches and needs someone to make her feel little. Too fucking perfect. Bull's cock is half hard just imagining how stiff the apostate's dick must be to have drained his face of all color.

"Er, translation?" He ventures, sure he'll be rebuffed, but needing to try anyhow.

"Uh, well," Solas begins but pauses to wet his lips. "It is uh… difficult to do the prose uh… justice."

He coughs and turns to Cole in earnest but Bull isn't really listening anymore. He is devising plans. Dirty, kinky, ageplay plans. And as the Inquisitor finally makes her entrance, the Iron Bull realizes that suddenly he isn't feeling very tired at all anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Transalations thanks to fenxshiral, merci!
> 
> Ar'gira mar'asreun, ma da'len: I own your orgasm, my little one.
> 
> Dirth'ma "sathan, ela'gara?": Say 'please, may I cum?'
> 
> I ar'ea silras sul'nar'athimathe, ma'haurasha: And I am drunk on your submission, my slut
> 
> Sahl'in, gara sul'em, nar Fen'Harel: Now, cum for me, your Dread Wolf


End file.
